Chapter 35 STORM WEAVER
KAI
"Before your father comes back. We can look at it properly in the dorm. Safer there.”
She was right. The risk of getting caught here, in his office, with his wife’s hidden notebook in our hands, was too great.
I nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
We carefully replaced the hidden compartment, sliding the false floorboard back into place until it clicked softly. I made sure the latch caught. Lyra stood first, offering me her hand. I took it, letting her pull me up.
For a moment we stood close, the tension thick in the air, fear, curiosity, and something warmer I didn’t dare name. We slipped out of the office as quietly as we had entered, Lyra keeping watch at the door while I ensured everything looked untouched. The hallway was empty. We moved quickly, sticking to the shadowed paths, shoulders brushing as we hurried back toward the residential wing.
When we reached Lyra’s dorm, I knocked softly. Yvaine answered, short black curls messy, a book still clutched in one hand. She blinked at the sight of both of us standing there, then raised an eyebrow.
“Kai? Lyra? You two look like you just robbed the Cery's office.”
Lyra gave a weak laugh. “Close enough. Can we come in?”
Yvaine stepped aside, closing the door behind us with a soft click. She watched us with open curiosity as Lyra and I sat on the edge of Lyra’s bed. The notebook felt like contraband between us.
“Okay,” Yvaine said, crossing her arms. “Spill. What’s going on? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lyra glanced at me for permission. I nodded.
She told Yvaine everything, the dream in the library, the real book with its missing storm dragon section, Tempest’s partial visions of red lightning and corruption, and finally the discovery of the hidden notebook in Ser Thorian’s office.
Yvaine’s eyes widened with every detail. When Lyra finished, she let out a low whistle. “Cadence Stormridge,” she repeated, looking at the red notebook like it might bite. “Kai… that’s your mother?”
I nodded, throat tight. “Yeah.”
Yvaine sat on the opposite bed, leaning forward. “Then open it. We need to know what’s inside.”
Lyra looked at me again. I took a deep breath and nodded.
We sat close on her bed, shoulders touching, the three of us forming a small, conspiratorial circle. I opened the notebook with careful fingers. The first pages were filled with my mother’s elegant handwriting, neat, flowing script interspersed with sketches of storm clouds, lightning patterns, and detailed notes on bond sensations.
Some entries were dated years before I was born.
My mother’s handwriting was neat but hurried, like she was writing fast between flights.
“Day 47 with Stormweaver. The lightning doesn’t burn anymore. It actually feels good now, like it’s part of me. But the dreams are getting worse. Red threads in the clouds. Something is watching us. I haven’t told anyone yet.”
I flipped further. The entries grew more personal.
“Thorian and I are still keeping it secret. We meet at the old lookout point after curfew. He says the Council would never approve of us dating while I’m bonded to a storm dragon. He’s worried they’ll separate us. I keep telling him it’ll be fine. I love him. I think he loves me too.”
Lyra’s hand found mine again and squeezed.
A few pages later, the handwriting became shakier, excited and scared at the same time.
“I’m pregnant. With Thorian’s baby. I’m terrified and happy at the same time. Stormweaver seems to know already — she’s been extra gentle with me. The dreams are getting stronger though. Red lightning everywhere. I finally told Thorian tonight. He looked scared. Said he’d protect me. I hope he’s right.”
I kept reading, chest tight.
“The Academy is acting weird toward me. People stare. Some instructors won’t meet my eyes. I told Thorian everything today. He said he’d talk to the Principal. I feel better now that he knows.”
Then the tone changed. The next entry was angry, hurt.
“Thorian betrayed me. He went straight to the Principal and the Council. They decided Stormweaver is too dangerous while I’m pregnant. They took her away from me this morning. I begged Thorian not to let them, but he said he was protecting me and the baby. Protecting me? I feel like he chose them over us. I’m so angry I can’t even look at him right now.”
The entries after that were quieter, resigned.
“We got married last week. Quiet ceremony. Thorian says it’s for the best. I gave birth to our son yesterday. We named him Kai. He has my eyes. The dreams haven’t stopped though. Red lightning every night. I still miss Stormweaver so much it hurts.”
Lyra’s fingers tightened around mine.
The final dated entry was written in a shaky hand.
“Kai is three months old now. They’re still watching me. The Council has people checking on us constantly. The dreams are clearer lately. I keep seeing a girl with violet curls — she’s older, maybe seventeen or eighteen. The storm chooses her. She has Tempest. If there is another storm rider after me, she needs to be careful. Do not trust Aetherwind Academy. Watch out for the red lightning. It’s not natural. It wants the storm dragons for itself. I don’t know how much longer I can—”
The entry ended abruptly, the last words trailing off.
Silence filled the room.
Yvaine spoke first, voice hushed. “Your mother knew about the corruption. She knew about Lyra. And your father… he betrayed her trust.”
I closed the notebook slowly, my hand still trembling. Grief, anger, and a fierce protectiveness crashed through me. “He told the Council. They took her dragon away. And then she died not long after.”
Lyra leaned her head against my shoulder, her voice soft. “I’m so sorry, Kai.”